Riding Tall (6 page)

“You swear at us, follow us here, and do your little stand-off bullshit, and you think
I’m
calling
you
out?” Joe shook his head in amazement at the man’s idiocy. “The cops are on the way. You can stick around and explain yourselves to them, you can pussy-walk out of here, or you can come at me. I honestly don’t see any other options.”

“We could all just talk it over,” Mackenzie tried, but no one seemed to be paying attention to him.

“You’re calling me a pussy?” the brother asked, stepping a little closer.

Joe half turned in Mackenzie’s direction, but he didn’t take his eyes off the other men. “You should go inside, get them to lock the door.”

“No way,” Mackenzie said. He’d never been in a fight in his life, but he couldn’t just leave Joe alone in his idiocy. “Come with me.”

“Four on two,” Joe mused, clearly not talking to Mackenzie. “Yeah, that’s a pussy move. Someone with some balls would go for a fair fight. You’d still be ignorant bigots, but at least you wouldn’t be cowards. But four on two? Four on two is four pussies, for sure.”

And that was it for one of the men who hadn’t spoken yet. He charged forward, fists raised, and yelled, “Fuck—”

That was as far as he got. Mackenzie wasn’t quite sure what happened, but there was a blur of movement, and then Joe’s hand was shooting forward into the attacker’s jaw, Joe’s foot was striking at the man’s leg, and as the man crumbled, Joe’s knee met his nose with a sickening crunch. Joe danced backward to stand in front of Mackenzie again, and the attacker rolled on the ground, trying to stop the blood gushing from his face.

“Holy fuck!” Steve Wallace’s brother yelled. “You fucking psycho!”

“That’s right,” Joe said, his voice calm. Mackenzie wanted to look at Joe’s face but was afraid of what he’d see. Could any sane person act the way Joe was?

Five heads turned a little as the sound of sirens drifted through the crisp air. Joe was the only one who didn’t react. “Police will be here soon,” Mackenzie said, trying desperately to sound reasonable. “You probably don’t want to be around anymore.”

The man with the broken nose staggered to his feet. The other three stared at Joe, then one of them broke and stepped backward. “We need to get out of here,” he said. He sounded as freaked out as Mackenzie felt.

The others followed his lead, scurrying out of the parking lot like cockroaches fleeing the light. One of them yelled back, “You fucking psycho fag!” And Joe actually laughed.

“What the fuck, Joe?” Mackenzie gasped. “Why did that just happen? Why didn’t we get in the fucking car?”

Joe frowned at him as if genuinely confused. “Why should we? Why should
we
run away from
them
?”

“Because there were four of them? Because they might have had weapons? Because they might have all attacked at once, and I’m sorry, Joe, but I am
not
a fighter! I would have helped if I could, but seriously….”

“Then they would have gone to jail,” Joe said calmly. He pointed up at the canopy over their heads. “Security camera. Gas stations always record people buying gas at self-serve pumps.”

“They would have gone to jail,” Mackenzie repeated numbly. “But we would have been in the hospital. Or the morgue!”

“I told you to go inside,” Joe said. “I didn’t make that decision for you.”

“But why did you make it for
you
?” The sirens were loud, now, the police almost there, but Mackenzie wanted this answered before they arrived.

Joe frowned at him. “Because I live here,” he said, his quiet voice almost lost in the wail of the sirens. “Because if I ran away from them this time, they’d do it again, and again.” He shook his head. “No way. I won’t live like that.”

Mackenzie wasn’t sure whether to admire Joe’s courage or be appalled at his recklessness. But not quite reckless… he’d had the presence of mind to walk to the gas bar and stand inside the camera’s range.

The police arrived then and were at least some distraction from the questions racing through Mackenzie’s mind. He didn’t complain when one of the officers led him away from Joe to take his statement, and as he ran through the events for her, he thought about them himself. What would have happened if they’d stopped walking at the car? If they’d gone right inside the store? More chillingly, what would have happened if all four men had attacked at once?

Joe seemed to know the officer taking his statement. Apparently there were different volunteer fire departments for different towns, but just one police detachment for the whole county; Joe must have met most of the cops at different fire or accident scenes over the years. The reminder of Joe’s history made things a bit easier to understand, maybe. Joe was used to making fast decisions and behaving calmly in the face of danger.

By the time the police had finished with their questions and collected a copy of the video surveillance, Mackenzie’s adrenaline had worn off and he was exhausted. Joe approached him a little warily, but Mackenzie was too tired to worry about any of it. This was Joe. Joe would take care of him. He tucked himself in against Joe’s shoulder and started walking toward the car.

“It was my fault,” he said when they got there. He walked around to the driver’s side, leaving Joe standing on the curb. “Because I kissed you. This never would have happened if I hadn’t held your hand and kissed you.”

Joe nodded slowly. “Yeah. That’s how they get you. It’s your fault for doing something simple and natural, not theirs for being violent, bigoted assholes. And if I’d gotten beat up, that would have been my fault for standing up to them, not their fault for being violent, bigoted assholes. You seeing a trend here?”

“They’re violent, bigoted assholes,” Mackenzie agreed. “But I know people like that are out there. If I don’t take steps to protect myself against them, then how can I say it’s not my fault if I get picked on?”

“You can fight back,” Joe said. He leaned on the roof of the car and stared intently at Mackenzie. “You can make them think twice before they pick on a gay couple again, because maybe it’ll be another psycho fag.”

Mackenzie sighed. It sounded so reasonable now, but he could still remember the metallic taste of fear, the dizzying panic of not knowing what was going on or who was going to get hurt. “Did you break that guy’s nose?”

“Yeah,” Joe said simply.

“Have you done that before? I mean, you seemed pretty good at it.”

Joe made a face. “Yeah. I don’t like to… I’m not a kid anymore, you know? And I hear what you’re saying: they
could
have had weapons, or they could have all jumped us at once. I get it. I just hate running away. It’s what they expect.”

“They’d think you were a pussy,” Mackenzie said, and then, despite himself, he giggled. “My God, Joe, I’ve never heard anyone use that word more often in a row! ‘Four on two is four pussies,’” he mimicked. “I’m going to tell Ally you were using that word as an insult. I’m pretty sure it’s sexist.”

“Don’t tell Ally,” Joe said seriously. “She’ll get upset.”

“How much of this stuff do you keep from them? Ally said it tonight… ‘everybody likes Joe
.
’ Does she honestly think that’s true? Because you don’t tell her about stuff like this?”

“I’m not going to tell my baby sister about somebody calling me a fag and wanting to beat me up. No way.”

“So it’s happened before.”

“Jesus, Mackenzie, of course it’s happened before. And don’t even pretend it hasn’t happened to you, because Toronto
isn’t
heaven. I’ve been there, and I know there’s just as many assholes down there as up here.”

“It’s happened,” Mackenzie admitted. “But not often.” He thought for a moment, then admitted, “I guess I hardly ever left the gay village.”

“And I hardly ever leave the farm,” Joe said with a smile. “We’ve both got safe homes.”

“We shouldn’t have to hide.”

“Yeah. That’s why I didn’t get in the car or go in the store.”

“Yeah.” Mackenzie frowned thoughtfully. “Yeah. Okay. I get it. Hey, you think you could show me some moves? Make
me
a psycho fag too?”

“You’re too pretty,” Joe said. “I don’t want anyone messing up that face.”

“I’ll mess
them
up.” Possibly Mackenzie was getting a little carried away, but it was fun to play, especially after all the tension.

“Okay, tough guy,” Joe said patiently. “Now will you get in the car? We should go home.”

“You want to drive? I’m sleepy.”

“What happened to your ‘my night, my car’
rule?” Joe asked, but he was walking around the hood as he talked.

“I got sleepy,” Mackenzie said. It was the only explanation he needed, although it probably wasn’t the entire reason he wanted Joe to take charge of their travel. He waited until Joe took the keys, then turned to go and found his hand caught by warm, gentle fingers. He turned back slowly.

“I’m sorry your night got wrecked,” Joe said.

Mackenzie shook his head. “It wasn’t wrecked. A bit more excitement than I expected, but not wrecked.”

Joe looked at him for a long moment as if gauging the truthfulness of his words, then said, “I love you, Mackenzie.” His kiss was sweet.

“I love you too,” Mackenzie said when his lips were free. “Now drive me home so we can go to bed and
sleep
.”

“Yes, sir,” Joe said.

Mackenzie climbed into the passenger seat and buckled himself in, then turned his head so he was looking at Joe. He felt his eyes drifting shut and let sleep come to him. It had been a strange end to the night, but it was all over now, and he was safe and warm and loved. In the morning, he was probably going to think about the whole thing some more, and maybe he wouldn’t like what he came up with. But for the time being, he was content.

Chapter 5

“T
HEY
FIGHT
a lot,” Joe admitted. Jean Carpenter, the social worker looking after the Walton girls, nodded sympathetically, but Joe still felt like a complainer. It wasn’t like the Suttons were a tension-free family, after all. But at least it seemed like Sutton fights were generally
about
something. And they didn’t have the bitter edge that the Waltons had developed. “A lot of name calling. Like, pretty mean names.
Slut,
and
bitch,
and stuff like that.”

“And how have you been responding?” Jean rested her elbows on the kitchen table and waited patiently for an answer.

“I tell them to watch their language, especially if Austin’s around. That’s about it.” Damn, that didn’t sound like enough. He should have done something more, found some way to make the girls gentler with each other. “I thought if I ignored it, it would go away,” he said, but it sounded like a lame justification. “Or that I needed to give them time to adjust to a new way of doing things. I didn’t want to slam them with a bunch of new rules when they’re still getting used to so many other new things.”

Jean smiled at him, and the expression seemed genuine. “Those are great instincts. But you can’t forget about taking care of yourself and your family too. Kids who are raised in a household with a lot of anger develop a sort of immunity to it. Like kids of smokers who can’t smell the stale smoke in their clothes. You and your family don’t have that immunity, and it’s probably really stressful for you to be dealing with it.”

“They’ve both been good with us,” Joe hastened to add. “It’s just with each other that they get mean.”

“I’m going to mention it to them on the ride,” Jean said, “and I can almost guarantee that they won’t have any idea what I’m talking about. For them, it’s just how you talk to family. They’ve learned they can’t talk that way to other people—school has socialized them that well, at least. But with each other….” She made a face. “That’s the default. Doesn’t mean they can’t learn to behave differently, but it’ll probably take some work, on their part and on yours.” Another face before she added, “And I know you’ve already got a lot on your plate.”

“So do they,” Joe said. He was torn. If it was just him, he could deal with it. A bit of negativity wasn’t the end of the world. But he didn’t want Austin growing up around that, didn’t want the little man’s meanness detectors burnt out the way the girls’ had been. “If they could learn to dial it down, at least….”

“They can. And, Joe, don’t think that it means they don’t love each other. This family… these girls… that’s their biggest strength. Lacey’s been looking after the little ones her whole life, and they know it. They’ve been insistent on staying together. One of the most compelling reasons they had for wanting to move back up here was wanting to be near Kami.”

Joe tried to control his expression and sound casual as he asked, “And how’s she doing?” How was she dealing with the effects of his mistakes? Had the few extra seconds he’d taken to get her out of the house completely destroyed her brain?

“Quite well,” Jean said, but Joe knew it was a relative term. “She’s settling in to the new facility. Getting a good start on the therapies. And she’s always happy to see her sisters. I was hoping to talk to you about getting them over there more than once a week. I know it’s a bit of a drive, but I think Lacey’s comfortable enough that she could be in charge of things, if you were able to give her access to a vehicle to get there.”